Changing Channels
by RnTshipper
Summary: Molly feels stuck. The stagnation in her life is giving her anxiety. She's leaving. Will Sherlock follow? Please read and review. Downloaded cover image from google. Don't know who it belongs to. Rated T because of F word. [Sherlock/Molly]
1. Chapter 1

_**I know this 'Molly tries to move on' concept has been dealt with in many stories but I still wanted to do it. I recently found myself experiencing the same anxiety that Molly feels in this story and I couldn't stop myself from writing it. It might be a one off or a multi chapter. I haven't made up my mind has not been read by a beta so I'm apologizing in advance for any grammatical or spelling mistakes. Please read and review.**_

 _ **All rights to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Moffat and Gatiss.**_

* * *

It occurred to Molly one day, while she was waiting for Sherlock to come to the lab at Bart's, that there was no point to the thing that she does every day – wait for Sherlock. Wait for him to call, wait for him to show up in the lab, wait to read about his case in John's blog or some newspaper. It felt pointless because, she thought, while looking at the doors for the hundredth time, "OK, he comes, then what? He'll ask some questions about the samples, he'll work. He'll leave. If he's feeling generous, he'll ask after my health or about Toby. What am I actually waiting for? He's not going to magically change his mind and declare me his soul mate. Why am I wasting my time like this?"

She was feeling that same irksome feeling that she gets when she changes the channels too many times – that dazed, hopeless feeling, because she knows that no matter how many times she changes channels, she won't find anything entertaining. She's only changing channels because she can't think of anything else to do. Problem is, channel surfing daze can be lifted with the shake of a head, good coffee and good book. But the Sherlock daze? How to get rid of that? She was getting tired of the rut. Coming to work every day and getting adrenaline kicks out of watching Sherlock. She wasn't going anywhere. Not in her farce of a friendship with Sherlock and definitely not in her life. She thought about her whole life, stretched in front of her. Just waiting and nothing to show for it. Cold fear set in with that thought. An anxiety that she didn't experience since her uni exam days, kicked in. _What am I doing with my life?!_

The panic kept rising. Her breath became shorter. Her hands started shaking. _Am I having an anxiety attack?!_ She stood up, gathered her stuff, took Mike's permission and drove home. She felt useless. Not even hopes of seeing Sherlock could keep her from running away. _I guess this is what a mid-life crisis feels like._

* * *

Once she got home, she did a barrage of tasks that usually help her with anxiety. She bought groceries. She cleaned out her fridge, she reorganized her closet. She reorganized the book shelf. She knew at the back of her mind that the anxiety wasn't because of the chaos of her surroundings and an 'organized environment' would not help. Not this time. Not even Netflix binging helped. It only aggravated her more – as she tried to drown herself in fiction, her self-disgust only increased instead of abating. _What am I to do?!_

The next day, she took the day off and faced up to her problem – she was hanging on to a wistful dream instead of living. She needed to get her shit together. She had to get over Sherlock. To do that, she needed distance from him and that wasn't going to happen in London. She wasn't what she wanted to be for him, but she was definitely one of his 'team'. Even if she avoided him, she'd still have to face him from time to time – they had similar professions and shared the same group of friends. She shared a god daughter with him. _I have to move away from here. There's no other way._

* * *

Over the course of the next month, she worked towards her new goal. Though she still looked towards Sherlock's visits (old habits die hard), she showed more restraint, grew more distant. But the resolve to move away never weakened. She felt she had become an addict. Cutting herself off from the supply was the only solution that appealed. After wasting nearly five years of her life, she didn't trust herself anymore. She used her uni connections to find a job in Edinburgh. She was able to find a teaching position in a small university. The only thing left to do was to find a place to live in Edinburgh and for that she needed to be there. She worked up her courage to say her goodbyes to her friends and colleagues.

She had given her two weeks' notice to Mike. She had expected him to try and change her mind but no one with eyes could miss what she had gone through because of her crush on Sherlock. He just smiled a sad smile and wished her all the best. With that over, what remained was the unpleasant task of saying goodbye to her friends. _No point in leaving him for the last minute. He always finds out and his 'reveals' are cruel and cutting. I might as well start with him._

So, the next day, when she found him in the lab engrossed in a slide, she stood on the opposite side of the table and cleared her throat.

"Sherlock? Hi. I…need to tell you something."

He did not look up but said, "Yes, Molly?"

"I got a teaching position in Edinburgh. I'm leaving in two weeks. So, yeah…that's it. Thought you should know."

He then looked up at her. He was frowning slightly. Molly didn't know what to do. _Should I just walk away? Maybe I should just walk away_. She was going to do just that when he suddenly spoke up.

"That's…sudden. Any particular reason? I mean, all the best and all that, but really, this is quite out of the blue."

She was slightly taken aback. She just thought he would smile nonchalantly or shrug his shoulders and wish her good luck. She didn't think he cared enough to ask for an explanation. But here he was doing just that and she was at a loss for words. _I'm going away to get over my unhealthy obsession for you._

"I've become rather tired of London. Change of pace and all that. I've always wanted to teach."

"Bart's is a teaching hospital."

"I've always wanted to travel."

"Take a holiday"

 _Dear Lord, he's getting that deductive gleam in his eye. What should I do?_

"I…I feel like a holiday's not enough anymore."

"Molly – ", he said his voice rising in a warning tone and Molly took a snap decision. She settled for truth. _What the heck? I won't see him again so I might as well tell him._

"I'm leaving to get away from you Sherlock. It's not healthy for me. I need a fresh start. I'm sorry. I know it's not fair to you, but I have to do what's best for me."

He just stared at her. What could he say? In a way, he was relieved. He always felt guilty that she was wasting her life but didn't know what to do. Now the responsibility has been lifted from his shoulders. After all he had put her through, he felt he owed her a proper goodbye. He just stood up and extended his hand.

With a sigh of relief Molly shook it. Still holding her hand, he said,

"All the best Dr. Hooper. I'm sure you'll do well in your career."

"Thank you Sherlock." She felt tears rising but before she could start crying, she drew her hand back, nodded and left the lab to go to the morgue.

He should be relieved. Oh, he's definitely relieved. He should be happy. _I am happy. I'm happy for her. It was getting uncomfortable. Especially after Eurus. This is good. Heck, I'll even talk to Mycroft and see if I can get her a better position._ He focused back on his case. He put Molly out of his mind. It definitely wasn't Molly's impending departure that was making him tap his leg against the stool restlessly.

* * *

 _ **So what do you think? Should I write another chapter ?**_


	2. Exit and Enter

_**This chapter focuses heavily on Molly's feelings. So you might be easily bored. But I have recently become fascinated with the pain people go through and wanted to see if I could describe it. I have to say I failed miserably. My 'pain depiction' needs more work. 'She cried' can't be the only way to describe emotions. But I couldn't leave the three generous people who wrote the reviews hanging. So here's another chapter. Please read and review.**_

 _ **All rights to Sir ACD, Moffat and Gattis.**_

* * *

Everything was going according to plan. Was she confident she was doing the right thing? No, she wasn't. She questioned her judgement every minute – while she packed up her books, her clothes, her luggage – while she finished every task, the broken record kept playing in the back of her mind. _Am I doing the right thing? Running away can't be the only solution. No, it is. I had five years to think of other ways. This has to happen._ Moving was not easy and she was glad it wasn't. The logistics of moving kept her occupied, kept her thinking about what she was leaving behind. Moving doesn't just mean changing houses – it means changing lives. One leaves behind friends, relationships, routines. Perfectly or imperfectly, a person builds a cocoon of safety – a network of job, people, places and hobbies that works for her and keeps her happy. Moving means she has to build all that up from scratch. Molly hasn't thought that far ahead.

At work she was tying up loose ends. Writing up reports about important cases that her successor would want to know about, formal stuff like signing off on stationery and other inventory, clearing up her office. Until she saw the two boxes that had been filled up with stuff from her office she hadn't realized how much her office had become her home.

Then she started doing the rounds of her friends' homes. With a topsy turvy house she didn't want to host a party. So she just visited them personally, spent a half hour with them and said good bye. When she went to meet Mrs. Hudson, she just hugged Molly and served her biscuits. Sherlock's name never even came up and Molly was grateful for that. They chatted about baking and fashion and while she was about to leave, Mrs. Hudson said, "I know why you're leaving my dear. Please remember that you have us if you ever need us. People like us should look after each other." Molly immediately teared up. She couldn't trust herself to speak so she just nodded, gave her a quick hug and left.

She knew exactly what Mrs. Hudson meant by 'People like us'. People with no real family and who viewed life from a different vantage point. Many words have different meanings to these people – 'favor' means offering prime real estate at throw away prices because you helped hang their husband, 'Weekend plans' mean visiting a gory crime scene so that your friend has company while he does his job, 'help' means offering your house as a hideout to a man working to dismantle a crime syndicate and 'family' means friends who'd kill to protect you or even take a bullet, quite literally. Life works on a whole other level of intensity for them. No one would understand them except each other. Embarrassment and dodgy history be damned, they have to stick together and look after each other. Which was what made saying goodbye to John especially difficult. He made her the god parent of his daughter. How could she look him in the eye and say she was running away?

The atmosphere was tense. They were both standing in the kitchen. Rosy was in a cot cooing softly. Molly wasn't even looking at him. She was looking at the kettle. She didn't know what to say. John was just watching her. He had already got the news from Sherlock. He was slightly alarmed. He had come to rely on Molly a lot, especially since Mary. He was slightly resentful but also ashamed. He needed Molly but he also understood that she needed this distance from Sherlock. _I'm her friend damn it! After all the shit she's been through, she needs this._

Politeness was not John's strong point, so he just took a deep breath and said bluntly,

"Well, it won't be easy without you. But you're doing the right thing. You need time away from that prick. I'll be _very_ pissed off with you though, if you shirk your god mother duties. Keep in touch, yeah?"

Molly could not keep her sobs back. She let them out but she calmed down (or tried to anyway) and said with a shaky voice, "Thanks John. I thought you'd be furious. I still want to be Rosie's God parent, you have no idea how much that means to me."

The little anger that John had evaporated at the sight of a slightly panicky Molly. _She's finally doing something that's right for her and she's worried that she can't be near Rosy? How was I even mad at this woman…?_

"The prick'll miss you."

"I'll miss him too but I can't go on like this John."

"Yes, yes…I understand. Wow…Molly. You're actually leaving."

They drank tea and after a little small talk and promises to keep in touch, she came out with a very light heart. Until John said he wasn't taking her off the god mother hook, she hadn't realized how much she was hoping John would say that. Rosy meant a lot to her. Until she came along, Molly never thought babies were her thing. But frequent babysitting duties meant that she quickly honed her maternal instincts and it's difficult as hell to leave behind a tiny person whose eyes light up whenever you enter the room.

As she walked to her flat, she felt happy for the first time in a really long time. She's moving away, yes. But she would still have all her friends. Everything would be different but there still would be people who care about her. She wouldn't be alone. Not really. Moving was going to be easy. Right? She couldn't be more wrong.

* * *

The two weeks passed away in a whirl of activities – making arrangements with a moving company, her tickets for the train, visiting some of her other friends, making arrangements for Toby's train trip. She finally found herself on the platform, along with Mrs. Hudson, John, Sherlock and Lestrade. John had Rosy strapped to him in a papoose. They were waiting for her sleeper to come on to the platform.

Trying to fill an awkward pause in the conversation, Lestrade spoke up, saying, "That's an awfully small bag for someone who's moving away forever."

"Don't be melodramatic. She's obviously going to come back to make the final arrangements once she finds a flat in Edinburgh", Sherlock said while still looking in to his mobile.

"No actually."

Sherlock looked up at Molly in confusion.

"You won't be coming back?

"No, I'll stay in campus lodgings till I find a flat and then I'll phone Meena to give her the address when I find one. I already gave her the money that she'd need for the moving company. Boxes are all packed up. Only loading and unloading's remaining."

After a small pause in which no one knew what to say, he finally said, "Characteristically thorough. Should've known" and proceeded to stare at the platform. The pause was becoming more and more fraught and just as Molly was about to say something, the train rolled on to the platform. In a hurry to get on the train, she didn't notice Sherlock had turned to look at her when she was about to speak up.

She quickly bid goodbye to everyone and hopped on to the train. While she was still waving her good byes the train started to move away and her eyes welled up involuntarily. When she lost sight of them, she found her berth and laid down on it.

She was feeling…sad? She didn't know. She tried to shrug it off. She was feeling down since morning but didn't really have to deal with it alone. There were a lot of last minute things to be done and the day was gone before she knew it. So, there she was, a bundle of fear, sadness, excitement and disappointment. She tried to listen to music but instead of soothing her like it usually did, it only added to the clamor in her head. She yanked her ear phones off and resigned herself to it. Thankfully the compartment was empty so she just jumped right into it. Really, after the storm of emotions she had been through the past two weeks she didn't even have to try that hard.

Once she concentrated on her loneliness and her utter terror at moving to a new place, the tears slowly started coming out. Once they started coming, it became much easier. With things to organize, she didn't focus on her misery the past two weeks. She had worked herself to the point of exhaustion and then quickly dropped off to sleep. No such luxury now. She was finally free, alone with nothing but her thoughts for company. What started as a slow sob, turned in to full blown weeping – everything hit her all at once – the anxiety about moving in to a new place, the worry about taking care of all her luggage, the sadness of leaving her friends and her home behind and finally, her disappointment with Sherlock.

Only now that she found herself weeping uncontrollably did she finally understand how deep her affection for Sherlock ran. She had been unconsciously hoping that he would say something, do something, anything to stop her from going. He hadn't done that. He really didn't care for her. There really is nothing between her and Sherlock. No false hopes and illusions to cling on to. And that hurt. There were no words for her pain. All these days, she had been wasting away her time in sweet anticipation of an impossible future. It might have been imaginary but it was something to hold on to. But now there she was in the 'stark light of day' so to speak and what she found did nothing to soften the blow – she found a meek, besotted woman who wasted away five years on a man who didn't care about her. Her heartbreak and self-disgust kept her up for a long time but her eyes finally grew tired. She woke up only when the train reached Edinburgh.

She collected Toby and looked about her. New place, new job and nothing to live for, except herself. Excitement took over self-pity. The healing had already begun.

* * *

 _ **Were you bored? Let me know. Things will be sunny for Molly from now on. Can't say the same for Sherlock though ;)**_


	3. Picking Sides

_**This chapter is very angsty and is Sherlock centric. I'm afraid I've made him a little OOC. After rereading the chapter a thousand times, he sounds like a whiny teenager to me. [WARNING - AUTHOR RANT AHEAD] It's sort of a revenge chapter to be honest. I got pissed off with Moffat and Gattis for being so unjust to Molly (I mean, really, getting her engaged to a Sherlock look alike and then breaking her engagement?!) I don't understand why they're humiliating her like that. Let her move on or hook her up with Sherlock already! Or at least show unambiguous signs that he is interested in her romantically. So yeah. Here goes my revenge chapter. Please read and review.**_

 _ **All rights to Sir ACD, Moffat and Gattis.**_

* * *

Sherlock was so relieved that Molly was leaving and so happy that _she_ would finally be happy that it never once occurred to him that he might miss her. When John asked him if he would be alright, he just gave him a puzzled expression and said, "Why wouldn't I be?".

Though John found the answer a bit glib (he _did_ witness Sherlock destroy a coffin with his bare hands after talking to Molly), he believed Sherlock because, this time around, Molly was in no danger. Besides, from the moment he came to know about Molly's decision, he kept watching Sherlock for signs that he was upset or affected in any manner. He found none. Sherlock was normal (or as normal as he could be with all his quirks). He went about his cases, even took over babysitting duties when Molly needed time to sort her stuff. After monitoring him for nearly a week, he concluded that Sherlock was truly okay with Molly moving away.

But that was where he was wrong. John, like everybody else and like Sherlock himself, overestimated Sherlock's 'problem dealing' skills. Thinking one could deal with an issue and actually dealing with it are two very different things indeed and John got a front row seat to how different they can be. The full impact of Molly's departure didn't hit Sherlock while Molly was still in London. Sure, he knew she was leaving but she was still there, sharing god parent duties with him, assisting him in the lab and cracking silly jokes about his cases. So, the two weeks leading up to her departure passed away very pleasantly. John even congratulated himself for his friendship's 'mellowing influence' on Sherlock.

He was hasty with those congratulations because he heard his first alarm bells on the platform. He didn't miss the slight disturbance in Sherlock's composure when Molly told him she wouldn't be coming back. Within minutes of that Molly had finally left and there he was with Sherlock in a cab. Sherlock was silently looking out the window. He could've been thinking about a case so John didn't disturb him. He got off at his house and Sherlock only looked away from the window to give Rosie's hair a ruffle. _He did bid goodbye to a longtime friend. He'll be okay in a couple of days._

Expect he wasn't. Sherlock grew increasingly restless. John noticed that at Bart's, John's home or at 221b, he'd frequently glance at the door as if expecting someone. A couple of times, Sherlock caught himself mid turn and stared at the opposite side of the room as if to prove a point, heaven knows to whom. Sherlock became afflicted with a rare case of restless leg syndrome. He'd constantly tap his foot regardless of whether he was working a case or not. He always looked as if he was on the edge of something. He kept checking his phone or watch as if he was waiting for something to be over. John became terrified that he'd start using drugs again. The only time Sherlock appeared like anything close to peaceful was when he was with Rosie. And even then, his eyes roamed all over the place as if searching for something.

John waited for Sherlock to settle down. He eventually did. The restlessness stopped. He stopped glancing at doors. Stopped looking at his phone or watch. His eyes still roamed about John's place when he came to see Rosie, but not with the same intensity. However his general manner…dampened? John didn't know how to explain it. Sherlock wasn't that aloof even in their early days of friendship. Days turned to weeks and Sherlock's behavior became only more distant and it seemed to John, more resentful. John felt that maybe he was reading in to things but when Mrs. Hudson complained that Sherlock was even more taciturn than usual, John decided to talk to him.

One night, both of them were in Baker Street, after solving a rather difficult case. John was in his usual place nursing a drink and Sherlock was by the window staring outside.

"Come over for dinner."

"I'd rather not."

"Rosie will be happy to see you."

"I'll see her tomorrow anyway."

"It's not like you have anything to do now."

"John, please leave."

"That's it! I've had it with you! What's going on?!"

"You _know_ what's going on."

"I don't! I feel like I'm being punished. And it's not just me. Even Mrs. Hudson feels that way. _If_ we are being punished we'd like to know why!"

"You've sided with her."

"Of course I've sided with her! She's terrified you'll start using again and asked me to speak to you!"

"I meant Molly!"

For a few seconds, everything was silent. John knew the conversation would take this turn so he braced himself and spoke,

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't act so innocent! You've taken her side – you _and_ Mrs. Hudson! You think I don't notice her visits?! I see her empty cookie boxes on Mrs. Hudson's shelves. Gender neutral toys for Rosie! Her brand of hand sanitizer on the kitchen sink! All three of you are having secret parties behind my back! Stop insulting my intelligence!"

 _So, that's what he was staring at whenever he was with Rosie. Nothing escapes that idiot!_

"Sherlock what would you have her do?! She misses us, we miss her - "

"I miss her too John! She's been my friend for so long! How does she get to do this?! She's my friend, I've become used to her presence, I've come to _rely_ on her and then she just ups and leaves! I never _asked_ to be loved! How is this my fault? How is this _fair?_ And that's not it! She keeps coming back. You get to see her, Rosie gets to see her, even Mrs. Hudson is rewarded with visits and I'm stuck here on the outside looking in, for no _fucking_ fault of mine!"

John was speechless. He knew he couldn't keep Molly's visits secret from Sherlock. But he didn't think Sherlock would mind so much, being the only one not seeing her. John was still not sure if Sherlock saw Molly as just a friend or if his feelings ran a little deeper but he could see that the whole Molly situation was aggravating him. John was overwhelmed himself. He had seen Sherlock like this only once before and that was when Mary died. He was feeling rather choked up so he cleared his throat and began speaking.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry we made you feel this way. It was not our plan to keep you out. We didn't take sides –"

"You –"

"Let me finish! We didn't take sides. We care about you. We didn't intend for this to happen. But you're correct. It's not fair to you. Just say the word and I'll ask her to stop visiting us."

Sherlock was stunned. He knew John was loyal, but…was he being manipulated? Would John really do that?

"I don't believe you."

John stood up, took out his mobile phone and rang her number.

"What are you doing?" said a thoroughly panicked Sherlock Holmes.

"Calling her right now. No point in waiting – Ah, Hello Molly. I wanted to tell you something important. I'm very sorry but – Hey!"

Sherlock had grabbed the phone from him and cut the line. But it kept ringing. Molly was calling back.

"You would do that for me?"

"You're my best mate. You'll always come first" said John and he meant it. He wasn't bluffing when he called Molly.

Too many emotions were overpowering Sherlock. He felt grateful but also very ashamed. He could see that he let his misgivings fester all these days. He felt childish for dragging it out for so long. Meanwhile Molly was still calling John.

"Answer it. Don't ask her to stop", Sherlock said. He didn't let go of the phone. He touched 'accept' and put her on speaker.

"John! Is that you? Is everything alright?"

"Molly! Sorry! Rosie lunged at the phone and it fell under the cot. Sorry!"

"God! For a minute I thought something had happened to you or Sherlock! I almost called Greg!"

"No, everything's fine. Nothing to worry about."

"What did you want to talk about? Is it Rosie? Is she alright?"

"Molly! Every one's alive and healthy! I only called to say that you can't come this weekend."

"Oh…that's okay. You made some plans with Rosie then?"

"No…We have no cases. Sherlock's going to spend the weekend with us."

"Right…I don't feel good about all this sneaking around John. I'm sure he's found out by now. Are you sure he's not pissed off or something?"

John looked at Sherlock, who was still holding the phone. He didn't know what to say and he got no help from Sherlock, who was watching the wall paper with a new found enthusiasm.

"John?" prompted Molly.

"I don't know Molly."

"Well, if he says anything, I'll stop alright? The last thing I want to do is irritate him. So let me know if he says anything okay?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Good night John."

"Good night."

Sherlock cut the line and collapsed in his usual place, with his head in his hands. John sat in front of him and softly said,

"Well she offered to stop herself. She wouldn't feel that bad I guess."

Sherlock chuckled and looked up.

"Don't be ridiculous. That was a childish outburst. I should've talked to you a long time ago. It's alright now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I convinced myself that she was doing it out of spite. That's obviously not the case. I…I just need to grow up."

During the cab ride back home, John wondered why Sherlock put Molly on speaker. _Did he want to hear her voice? Wow...I have been watching too many romcoms._

 _Well, watch some more_ said Mary.

* * *

 _ **There! Making the great Sherlock Holmes an angry teenager - that's my revenge! Please R and R**_


	4. Auto pilot

_**Sorry for the delay! Had to go out of town for a couple of days. Anyway, here's another chapter. Thank you everyone who left reviews! Another chapter and this story will be done, I think. Molly's and Sherlock's paths cross again. Please read and review :)**_

 _ **All rights to Moffat, Gattis and Sir ACD.**_

* * *

The first two weeks of Molly's life in Edinburgh flew away in a whirl of settling down. She found a new flat, received her luggage and set about the task of turning her new flat in to a home. After that, it was a matter of getting used to the routine in a new place. She made grand plans for a journey of self-discovery – she promised herself that she would visit at least one new place every weekend. When the second weekend arrived (the first was eaten up the by the exercise of moving in to her new flat) she realized that she has to try _very_ hard to stay motivated enough to go out. Making plans with other people means one of them will hold the other to her word. Plans made by self _for_ self, never really materialize. That was why even as the third weekend rolled around, Molly found herself lolling on the couch, staring at her mobile listlessly. She was debating whether or not she should call John Watson.

 _Oh, what the heck? What harm would it do? He said he expected me to keep up with my God Mother duties and that's what I am doing. I'm just calling to talk about Rosie. That's it._

"Hey John! How are you?"

"Oh, hi Molly. Yeah, I'm fine. How're you?"

Molly could instantly tell that something was going on. Not something dangerous, but definitely something that made John sound tense and tired.

"Is everything alright? You sound rather worried."

"It's just that…no, everything's alright."

"It doesn't sound that way. Is Rosie sick or something?"

"Yes, she is. She has come down with the flu. It's okay. She just needs monitoring. That's all."

"Oh, why are you so worried then?"

"It's just that Sherlock's on a case. It's not complicated but we're dealing with a potentially violent suspect. I have to watch Rosie but I'm not comfortable about letting him go alone. You know how he can get carried away sometimes."

Molly understood his dilemma. He couldn't leave a sick daughter to somebody else's care, no matter how small the complaint but he was also feeling guilty about letting a friend go alone in to a potentially violent situation. Molly thought, but only for a few seconds.

"I could come watch Rosie."

"I can't ask that of you Molly!"

"I want to come John, I miss her. Her flu is just an excuse. I _am_ her God Mother."

"Molly…"

"Just say yes. You know you want to. It's not the same as leaving her with someone else – I'm a Doctor. She knows me. She'll be alright. It's better than you sitting on a cliff edge the entire weekend, worrying about Sherlock."

John finally caved in. It didn't help that his friendship with Sherlock started with John saving his life. He's scared of the lengths that Sherlock goes to, to prove himself right. And thus started Molly's visits to London.

Not visiting Sherlock was not a deliberate choice Molly made. She went to London whenever her weekends coincided with Sherlock's cases and that didn't happen often enough for any coherent plan to be formed. In the four months of her Exile (that's what Molly called her move to Edinburgh, Exile with a capital E), she visited only five times. Any person other than Sherlock would not have even noticed her visits. She hadn't even thought of Sherlock or about how he would feel. As far as she was concerned, she was just visiting her God daughter and her friends. She wasn't doing anything wrong and frankly, she didn't think Sherlock would care. Besides, she never really felt secure in her friendship with Sherlock and felt that if she visited him, he would only feel burdened.

The first couple of visits were okay but afterwards she did begin to feel that she was sneaking around him. Her conscience warned her that she should be more upfront. But she was having too much fun with Rosie and there was too much emotional scar tissue from five years of pining. _If all's fair in love then all's fair in getting over it_ , she told herself.

On the 'getting over' front, Molly didn't know if she was making any progress. She thought she wouldn't know until she faced Sherlock again. She was having the time of her life though. She bought a tourist map of Edinburgh and on the weekends that she wasn't in London, she explored the city that she decided to live in. After being hung on a guy for so long, living a _completely_ single life felt very liberating. With the excitement of planning her weekend tours, she gradually stopped thinking about Sherlock. After nearly six months of living in Edinburgh, Sherlock wasn't even a factor in her life anymore. Even when she visited London, she didn't feel like she was walking on egg shells. Any association between London and Sherlock slowly evaporated.

Once, she visited London purely on a whim. It wasn't for Rosie, Mrs. Hudson or even Meena. She fancied visiting the John Snow pub. After having a quick drink she was wandering aimlessly, window shopping, when it happened.

* * *

John and Sherlock were shopping. John wanted to buy new clothes for Rosie and somehow convinced Sherlock to tag along. John was complaining to Sherlock about how difficult it was to find clothes for little kids.

"They're constantly growing and they won't fit in to clothes that were perfectly okay even two weeks ago. I have half a mind to just wrap her up in a blanket – what do think – Sherlock?"

When he turned to look at Sherlock he didn't find him. He swirled around and saw that Sherlock was walking as if on auto-pilot towards a woman on the other side of the road. He recognized the woman instantly. It was Molly Hooper. She was staring quite intently at a mannequin wearing a sun dress and therefore didn't notice Sherlock approaching her. John immediately tensed up. He was worried about how they would react to seeing each other. He could've spared himself the trouble.

Sherlock tapped her on the shoulder. Molly turned around and became still but only for a second. John was surprised when Molly flew to hug Sherlock but he was _very_ pleasantly shocked (he learned that could happen) when Sherlock caught her in his arms and twirled around. Both of them were grinning like maniacs.

 _Huh, interesting._

* * *

"Sherlock I missed you!" was what she said when she was flying at him.

"I missed you too!" was what she heard as he put her down.

A few seconds passed by when she finally realized that her hands were still on his coat and his were still on her shoulders. When her brain finally switched to manual, she stepped back as is she was scalded, took her hands off his coat and said,

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking! You have to realize I didn't mean to do it. I'm so sorry Sherlock!"

"Molly, no –"

"Don't be ridiculous Molly! Didn't you notice he was hugging you back? What a pleasant surprise! You didn't tell me you were coming to London."

"Hi! John!" Molly gave him a quick hug and breathed a sigh of relief. She was glad he had arrived to break the tension.

 _What is wrong with you?! You uproot your entire life to get away from him and then jump at him the second you see him. You disgust me!_ While Molly was berating herself silently, John noticed Molly's mortification and Sherlock's confusion, and quickly took control of the situation.

 _They're ready to bolt, both of them. Well, it won't happen, not on my watch. I've had enough of this star crossed bullshit._

"You know what, let's have coffee together. What do you say, Molly? We have so much catching up to do. You can tell us everything about Edinburgh and we have some interesting cases to share. Come on."

John led the way and both of them followed him in a daze.

* * *

 _ **The hug bit was cliched but it sort of happened to me once. I had met my cousin after years and my body almost moved on auto-pilot to hug her. I reeled myself in the last minute. We're not a hugging family.**_

 _ **Our body does get hijacked by emotions. Please read and review :)**_


	5. A Walk to Remember

**_So here's the final chapter as promised. Sorry for the delay. I got stuck because no matter what lines I put in Sherlock's mouth, he seemed OOC. Finally I bit the bullet and just wrote an ending. I hope you like it. All rights to Sir ACD, Moffat and Gattis._**

 ** _Please read and review :)_**

* * *

The walk to the coffee shop had calmed them down. John had kept up a constant stream of chatter and kept Molly engaged. While she and John were talking about Rosie, Sherlock just took Molly in. She hadn't changed that much. As he looked at her, all the things he was beginning to forget came rushing back – her smile, her voice, her sense of humor, even the way she moved. Because that's what missing a person means – until you see the person again you can't tell what you're actually missing. When you finally see them, you're struck by the hundred different things that are peculiar to them and there's a pleasant thrill in discovering them again. Sherlock was basking in that familiarity again. Too soon, they had arrived at the coffee shop and before Sherlock and John could say anything, Molly said,

"Alright, you guys find us some seats. I'll go get our orders. Same as usual, yeah?"

After asking them what they wanted, she stood in the long queue while Sherlock and John went to look for an empty table.

* * *

Sherlock and John found a table and sat down. Sherlock craned his neck to see how far ahead Molly had gone in the queue. When he finally looked back at John, he saw that John was giving him the 'spill the beans' smirk.

"What're you smirking about John?"

"A hug _and_ a twirl? When did you become such a fountain of affection?"

"I…don't know."

"What?!"

"I wasn't thinking. I saw her and was almost sure it was her. So I went and tapped her shoulder. She turned around and jumped at me. It all happened too fast. I realized what happened only after her feet hit the ground."

"It was involuntary?"

"Yes, I didn't think it was possible", Sherlock said with a slightly dazed expression.

"I really did not know that she was coming."

"I know. I think she caught on."

"Caught on about what?"

"About my outburst. Her visits became less and less frequent haven't they? Have you told her?"

"I didn't! I never –"

"Well, she's always been very insightful so I'm not surprised."

John just rolled his eyes in response. He was still figuring a way out to take himself out of the scene, when Molly came with the coffee and took her place at the table.

"So…Molly. Tell us about Edinburgh."

"Oh nothing to say, to be honest. I'm getting a lot of free time and using it for extra-curricular activities."

"Interesting. What're you doing then, in your free time?"

"I explore. I sort of pick a place and visit it and then stroll about the neighborhood when I'm done."

"You must've covered the whole city by now!" replied John in amazement.

"Not really. I keep coming back to London."

"Why?" Molly jumped a bit. That was the first time Sherlock had spoken to her after the HUG (hug in caps was how she thought of it for the rest of her life).

Sherlock was curious if she would tell him the truth about the visits she has been paying to Rosie and the others. He acknowledged to himself that he was being cruel but the sting from Molly's exclusion hadn't completely worn off.

Molly colored up slightly but she didn't turn away from him.

"It was for Rosie the first few times but afterwards…to cover the sights."

"Sights?"

"It's a historic city Sherlock! I never had the time to experience it properly when I was here. I was always thinking, 'where does this road lead to' or 'what does this shop sell' or 'I wonder what this place is'. So I'm ticking all those questions off my list."

"You have turned in to quite the explorer then" said Sherlock with a polite smile and proceeded to drink his coffee.

John released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. _That went well. He was always a savage idiot._ He was thinking how he could leave Molly and Sherlock alone with each other without it being seem contrived, when his clinic came to his rescue. His phone rang – it was his nurse calling.

"James? What is it? Everything alright?"

"Yes . Mr. Norbert's here. He says it's urgent. He's quite worked up and is insisting that he must see you."

"Oh. Yeah. I'll be right there. Give me half an hour."

John thanked his stars and got up from the table. He was about to make his excuses when Molly asked him,

"Is everything alright?"

"I don't know. The nurse called about a patient of mine. He is a hypochondriac and it could be nothing but he did have a cardiac episode about a month ago, so it's best if I go and check up on him."

"It's peak traffic time. You'll never get there in half an hour", said Sherlock.

"Well, I'll have to find a way."

Molly suddenly sat up as if she got an idea. She took her keys out and held them out to John, "You could take my bike. The traffic will be easier to navigate."

John took the keys with a look of curiosity. "I thought you took your bike to Edinburgh", he said.

"I did. I, um - I drove here."

Normally, John wouldn't have left without getting the whole story out of Molly but he really was worried about Mr. Norbert and left thinking _It's a story for another day._

But Sherlock was sitting right there and directed his curious gaze towards Molly. "You drove your bike all the way from Edinburgh to London? Never took you for the adventurous type."

"Never underestimate a bored woman" mumbled Molly, fiddling with the lid of her coffee cup.

For a while both of them sat there, uncomfortably sipping their coffee, when Molly thought of something to ask Sherlock. It was an innocent question. She was rather surprised that Sherlock hadn't noticed her London trips. She had no intention of interrogating Sherlock. But the effect of her question on Sherlock was rather alarming.

"You really didn't know about my London visits?"

Sherlock froze like a deer caught in head lights. He wasn't expecting that question. He hesitated only for a moment, but Molly pounced on him.

"You did! You knew and you still asked!" she said with a surprised smile on her face.

"I did not! Why would I ask if I knew?!" said Sherlock using his patented 'Don't-be-stupid' expression.

"Hmm. Right. My mistake" but the triumphant expression on Molly's face said something else.

Sherlock started to say something but stopped when he saw Molly's expression. _I never could fool you_. He slouched in defeat. With an embarrassed smile, he said, "I understand why you did it, but it still stung."

Molly's expression softened. Guilt crept in.

"I'm sorry if I seemed cruel. I never meant to hurt you. I didn't think you would care."

"Why would you think that?" he seemed genuinely curious to know the answer.

"I…don't know. I just..."She left her sentence hanging and began staring at the cup, as if deep in thought. Sherlock looked around and saw that the other customers were giving them angry looks.

"Molly, we better get out before they kick us out. We're hogging the table."

Molly looked up as if waking up from a dream. She just nodded, stood up and collected her bag. Sherlock stood up too and both of them walked out of the restaurant. They stood on the pavement for a while.

"So where are you headed to from here?"

"I meant to drive around and then head to Meena's for dinner but…"

"You have no bike now and Meena won't be home yet."

"Yeah."

"You could come to Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson would love it."

"You don't mind?"

"Nope."

"Okay." She moved as if to call for a cab but Sherlock said, "The weather's pleasant. We could walk."

Molly was slightly taken aback but she quickly recovered.

"Alright then."

They silently walked along for a while when Sherlock started talking again.

"You never answered my question."

Molly thought for so long that Sherlock almost gave up on waiting for an answer. But she finally spoke up.

"I don't know why I thought you didn't care Sherlock. Maybe I wanted to justify what I did to myself. Maybe I was scared to face you again – I don't know. I'm sorry. I really am."

Sherlock wasn't expecting an apology from Molly. He only asked Molly why she thought he didn't care because he was afraid that he had been his characteristic brusque self with her and offended her. He didn't want Molly to be in any doubt that he respected her. So when Molly responded the way she did, he didn't know what to say. He just shrugged with a smile on his face and said, "That's okay Molly" and continued to walk.

The silence started to get uncomfortable, so he started talking again.

"So, long distance bike driving."

Molly just giggled and replied.

"I've always wanted to do that. Never did because I didn't have a place to drive _to._ I mean, I could've driven to some or the place from London, but where would I stay? But now, I can drive here, stay at Meena's or John's and drive back again. It was too crazy not to try!" she said looking up at Sherlock.

"Liked it?"

"Loved it! I've discovered this new wanderlust in myself. I've heard of 'pathologists without borders'. It's still on the back burner but I mean to try it sometime in the future."

"A globetrotting pathologist – doesn't sound bad."

"It doesn't, does it?" she said with a skip in her step. Her enthusiasm was infectious and he couldn't help but smile at her.

"Mum will be mad though."

"She doesn't like travelling?"

"Oh she doesn't mind the travelling, she'd rather I travel with a husband."

"Boring."

"Oh! Sorry for rambling on. Do you have a case then?"

Sherlock turned to Molly with a puzzled expression and then it hit home for him – Molly thought he called her rambling boring.

"Sorry! I meant your mother's idea of travelling with a husband – that sounded boring."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, it _does_ sound boring doesn't it?"

"You like travelling alone then?"

"Well, no. Having a companion will be a huge difference. I get rather jumpy when I travel alone. Always keeping a look out."

"So why do you do it then, travel alone?"

"I don't have another choice now, do I? Making friends just so you could have someone to travel with doesn't feel right – the process should be more natural. And staying put, till you've found a friend feels ridiculous. So I thought, what the heck, let's travel. What will happen, will happen", she finished shrugging her shoulders.

Both of them walked silently for a while. Molly was taking in the sights and Sherlock was deep in thought. They were five minutes away from Baker Street when he spoke up again,

"We could travel together. My cases take me to a lot of new places."

Molly didn't know how to respond. _Is he serious? He can't be serious. He's just being polite. Just making conversation, that's it. Don't lose it Molly! You made it this far without making a fool of yourself. Keep it cool. Don't say anything. We'll move on to another topic._

"You don't like the idea."

"What?"

"You don't like the idea I suggested."

"Are you serious?"

"Why not? You like travelling, you're a pathologist, you'd make a perfect partner. John wouldn't mind too. I'm getting the idea that he's only helping me because he can't say no. But he's being dragged in several directions and it's wearing him down."

They had stopped walking by now. Sherlock was standing with his hands in his Belstaff pockets and was looking at Molly and Molly was looking at him with an expression that was fast approaching sheer panic. She almost caved in, she almost reverted to her previous stuttery self. But she looked away for a moment took a deep breath and said,

"Sweet of you to offer but no."

"Oh."

Molly expected Sherlock to shrug it off. But she felt a surge of anxiety when she saw the expression on Sherlock's face. It was disappointment mixed with something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was almost the same expression he had when Molly delivered John's 'message' to him after what happened to Mary. She felt like a traitor, denying him company after everything he's been through. _Molly, don't say anything. Don't say anything. Don't read too much in to stuff, let it go. But look at him you idiot! He looks like a kicked puppy. NO, AARGH, What the heck – here it goes!_ And she blurted out everything that was running in the background of her brain ever since she hugged Sherlock that day, "I'm sorry –"

"Molly it's okay –"

"No, please, I need to say this. Let me finish! I don't think I can get over you, ever! I mean, for the past few months I hadn't even thought about you but the moment I saw you, I just lost control! I _know_ how pathetic I sound right now Sherlock but I've tried to forget you. Short of hypnotism, I've tried _every_ trick in the book. I can't do it! So, the only way I'll stay sane is if I stay away from you. I'm tired Sherlock. I'm tired of expecting things from you, things you can't give. I'm sorry. But we'll _always_ want different things from each other. I can only be your friend by staying away from you. It's the only healthy option."

Sherlock was speechless. He watched her as she stood before him, slightly trembling after her declaration. Her head was bent so he couldn't see her eyes but he could tell that she was fighting hard to keep her tears from flowing. _Look at her…She laid everything bare, with no hope of getting what she really wants. And here you are, always hiding. After all she's been through, doesn't she at least deserve the truth?_

Before he could start speaking, Molly started walking away. He gently caught hold of her wrist and stopped her. He steeled himself and when she turned and looked at him with a rather watery puzzled expression, he started speaking, "Maybe we don't want entirely different things from each other."

"What?" Hope rose in her heart like a traitor, but she tried to quash it down _._

"I never said anything because I thought you deserved more than a 'maybe' after all you've been through."

"Sherlock, I don't understand –"

"I don't know when it started. I started enjoying your company. I began to look forward to our meetings in the lab or our conversations whenever I used your flat as a bolt hole. You have _no_ idea how much I missed you Molly!"

She just offered him a watery smile. _It's time to be crude. Rip off the band aid. You'll be happy later._

"I'm not exactly thinking about conversations when I imagine a relationship with you Sherlock. Do you get what I'm saying or should I spell it out for you?"

Sherlock gave her a twisted smile and said, "Why would you think a man entirely uninterested in sex would talk about another person's lips or breasts? Do you really think I'm asexual?"

"No, but I didn't think I had a chance when you rejected Irene Adler!"

"Molly, she's a criminal and I'm a consulting detective – we never had a chance! Besides being impressed and being attracted are two very different things!"

Molly stared at the pavement for a little while. She knew what she wanted to say. She tried out a few phrases before finally landing on what she thought was right. She looked up at him cautiously and said, "Are you telling me that you find me attractive and that we have a chance?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me that all these days?! Why didn't you tell me when I was leaving London? I told you _two_ weeks before the actual date Sherlock!"

"Because I was scared that I wouldn't be able to give you what you wanted!"

"What did you think I wanted?!"

"A husband, children, a proper family! What if I couldn't give them to you and we ended up angry and bitter, never able to look each other in the eye?!"

By this point, both of them were shouting. Molly, because she was confused and thought Sherlock was just saying stuff to reduce her embarrassment and Sherlock, because he found it damned difficult to articulate everything he was feeling.

"Have you even _met_ me?! I cut up dead bodies for a living and helped fake a death! Sure, I want a family but I'm open mined! If only you'd have asked –"

"How could I?! I come back from being dead and there are you are, engaged to a half-wit!"

"Tom was _not_ a half-wit!"

"Molly he said 'MEAT DAGGER'!"

"God! So what! I broke that engagement! That can't be an excuse!"

"Why not! I see the woman I'm attracted to, engaged to a man with a painfully inferior intellect! What other conclusions could I draw?! It was obvious that you were _desperate_ to get hitched! So even after you broke up, I kept out of your way!

"You idiot! I was not – But I – you have no- aargh!" she just punched him in the shoulder with frustration and started walking furiously away.

"Yes that's right! Walk away! And they call _me_ emotionally immature!" he yelled at her, rubbing his shoulder.

They continued that way for a few seconds, her walking ahead furiously and him sullenly following a few steps behind. Thinking he was farther back than he actually was, she turned around suddenly and walked straight in to him. He caught her by the shoulders and steadied her. Her expression was still furious but she looked up at him and said, "Fine! I'm not engaged now. I still like you and you apparently find me attractive, so what do you suggest we do?"

Sherlock lost his sullen expression and became slightly wary. He put his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat before he said,

"Date?"

"A family is completely off the table?"

"At this point I honestly don't know. I only know that if I never ask you out, I'll regret it."

To Molly, that seemed fair. Besides, the man she loves has finally shown an interest in her and her joy was showing on her face. So Sherlock took a calculated risk and took her hands in his.

"What do you say then?"

"Dating sounds fine."

Both of them broke out in to massive stupid smiles. He steadied his nerves and as he drew near to kiss her, he got a text alert. He hesitated but Molly said, "Go ahead, it could be John."

Sherlock took his mobile out and saw that it was indeed John.

"Master stroke, getting Molly to give me her keys! Peak traffic my foot!"

Sherlock pocketed his phone with an impish smile and Molly noticed.

"What is it? What's the smile for?"

"You're smiling too"

"But you know why I'm smiling."

"Yeah I do."

And before she could ask anything more, he put his hand on her cheek and drew near to kiss her and she let him. _The text alert can wait! I've been waiting for this for five years!_

* * *

 _**The End**_


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